Nothing on TV in the dark a.m. hours could lead to STD's....

This lament has been heard by everyone that suffers insomnia, "there's nothing on TV". Truly, it is the land of info-mmercials and shitty movies you'd never watch if you had something to do. The thing that I find interesting is how it's a commentary on our culture. You see info-mmercials on getting a bigger cock through pills or pump... you see pills to make sex last 2 hours longer than a week and maintain terminal erection for 3.9 hours because god in heaven help you if it goes 4 hours akimbo...you then see ways to become independently wealthy from people just dying to share their secret pathway to that said wealth... you then have (my favorite) the Girls Gone Wild video offers and honestly what guy among us hasn't almost been convinced to order one of those videos... you then have love lines where you call in and meet a mate or partake in a 1.95 a minute gherkin jerkin... then the mother of them all the Valtrex commercials.
See it started to make total sense to me... it's like I figured out the code or broke into the matrix. See you get the pills or pump and get a bigger hot hole humping hockey stick. Then you get the magic pill to keep your Asian scarin Godzilla piss pop hard because your ticker just can't pump up your new mutant slobber harmonica. Then you realize something that would make John Holmes give you a thumbs up ain't all it takes cause you need the money to get the pad to do the said "ahh push it" indoors. So, now your buying three legged jeans and have a pill to keep it so it opens doors, and you also now have a pimp palace from the proceeds of your road to wealth idea that the government don't want you to know about. Then it hits you... the lady you bagged has no time for a 3 hour hump and dump session because she's paying a sitter by the half hour, and so you buy the Girls Gone Wild videos which desensitize you to any woman you could really get in real Hee Haw Hell Georgia. Then desperate for the wild thing you call the hook-up line and something visits you that looks like an English sailor from 1700's with a serious case of scurvy but you don't care because that huge cherry poppin daddy has made you lite headed and you need relief after just two hours of it doing nothing but being a sun dial. You do the deed and boom a month later you are wondering why you feel like you're pissing mace. Then you get the Valtrex... thus completing your journey through late night TV. See... I told you I had it figured out.